Nora by Charles Jay Harwood Chapter 19.3

Nancy’s
thoughts did a little stutter before her index finger depressed the letters,
MILLIE. She ended with the hash key. The screen asked her to repeat the
password. Shards of glass scoured at her ribcage as she did so. She adopted a
smooth tone. ‘I’m done now, Henry,’ she said and deposited the thing on the tabletop
before him. Henry’s square hands engulfed the device. He turned for the surveillance
room once more.

Nancy
sensed a pivotal moment approaching. She could back out now and return to her
world with little consequences.

Now
was the time.

Electronic
bleeps resounded from the surveillance room. Nancy’s stomach lurched. She could
not go back. There was nothing to go back to. Sheila’s house had become the
dark side of the train station. Sheila would do what she wanted with her denial
and Nancy would allow her mother to morph into a wheelchair-bound parasite of
the national state. Nancy found her knuckles trembling with rage.

The
clink of keys duetted with three short pulses. The reinforced steel lid snapped
shut. The keys engaged, another bleep and Henry’s soles squeaked. Sheila’s
rusty splinters had been overlooked, it seemed. The pivotal moment had passed.

Henry
re-emerged and offered the device. ‘Done.’

The
shards of glass kept scouring. She stood, taking the device.

Henry
pushed his fingertips in his jeans pocket. ‘Mr. Jonas is not taking visitors
until ten am tomorrow and not after four, so the gates won’t respond even if
you point the device. Some physios from the clinic are expected in the
afternoon. I won’t be here, but Naomi or Judith will let you in.’

Nancy
suppressed another quaver in her breath. ‘Thank you, Henry. I think I’ve
imposed upon you enough for one day.’ Nancy tried to temper her initial judgment
of him. She placed the device into the front pouch of her bag alongside E1, E2
and F3. ‘I’d best get on.’ She lifted the strap. ‘I still have some work to do
on Mr. Jonas’ room before he gets back from London.’

Henry’s
brows pulled together. ‘Oh.’ His expression skirted that distilled glower of
earlier. ‘I’ve come to the end of my shift now.’

Nancy
offered her most ingenuous smile. ‘I’m sorry, Henry, I didn’t realise I’d kept
you. I’ll let myself out once I have discussed the finer points with Mr.
Jonas.’

‘I’m
not sure I’m allowed to do that, Nora. Whilst Amy is away, it is my job to
ensure all guests have left the building before locking up and deactivating the
gates.’

Nancy
flexed her fingers to ease the trembling. ‘It has already been arranged that I
see Mr. Jonas before he goes to bed this evening. I have made some vital
changes to his room, including the location of his pills.’

I
suppose I could call early tomorrow and hope he comes to no grief in the night,
but it goes against my principles.’

‘As
I’ve said before, Mr. Jonas will be accepting no visitors until after ten am.’

Nancy’s
smile was feeling more plastic. ‘Fair enough, Henry.’ She stepped from the
table. ‘Well, I’m rather looking forward to using my new gadget on the gates.
I’ll call by tomorrow after ten. Have a good evening.’

Henry
appeared distracted. ‘Yeah, sure.’

Nancy
made a track for the door leading the meeting room. Her boots echoed over the
terracotta tiles, now lit with wall lamps and a glimmer in the hearth. The
foyer, possessing Tudor overtones, looked brooding this late in the day. Nancy
pushed the lever of Vince’s mighty door and exited the building. Infrared
cameras would be tracking Nancy’s route up the gravel drive. She fished out her
device, grateful the floodlights enabled her to see. Soon after, the system
would be expecting Nora Clements’ device to active the gates prior to her
passage. Henry would then switch the gates to override for the night. She
lifted her keypad, readying her index finger for the password.

Crunching
footfalls closed in from behind. ‘Wait.’

Nancy
turned.

The
building’s floodlights leached into Henry’s silhouette, causing her to squint. ‘Look,
I really shouldn’t be doing this.’ He sounded edgy. ‘And anyway, it’s not as if
you could take anything...’ He shrugged. ‘All of Mr. Jonas’ effects are tagged.
Nothing can possibly get past those gates.’

‘You
don’t have to do this, Henry.’

‘Mr.
Jonas does not accept telephone calls during his business trips but I can text
him; let him know that you’ll be here when he arrives.’

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WHAT THE STORY IS ABOUT

Nancy is hurled into the world of celebrity when she finds herself performing a shoot for odious playboy, Vince, as they walk from one of his nightclubs. The tragedy that unfolds cements their world together.

A free thriller serialized on a blog. Copyright has been asserted by Charles J Harwood 2013. Please do not copy. The final chapters have been omitted.